


It All Depends On Your Entrance

by lieforfun



Series: Avengers [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Depressed Tony, I wrote this like two years ago, M/M, Not kidding, Panic Attack, Short Story, Tony Needs a Hug, bruce is the only one who could hold him up, really short, screwing around with ideas, tony cries, tony's working too hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3238139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieforfun/pseuds/lieforfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony flips out working on the Mark VII and has a realization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It All Depends On Your Entrance

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this so long ago and just found it. Have fun with this ball of emotions.

Tony laid his head on the table, pounding so loudly it clattered his teeth. His eyes were shut tightly and his fists were clenched, hair matted and dirty from lack of brushing and showers. In fact, his whole body stank from lack of self care, and that fact just made him angrier at himself. He was so tired, but he couldn't stop working or he would lose the numerous concentration that the Mark VII took from him.   
Why was he pushing himself so hard? It was just a suit, it didn't really mean anything. But it did though, he chided himself. It was the difference between life or death for him, the city, or just a few people. It mattered, and people depended on him to make the Iron Man as special, unique, and cool as it could be. No one actually wanted Tony Stark, just Iron Man. The person was unimportant, the robot was needed.   
Tony nearly choked on a sob that he had been trying to repress. Tony Stark didn't cry. He was too macho for that. He held his head high, was judgmental, snarky and rude.   
But Tony was a person. He felt pain like a human being. Though most people saw him as a sarcastic ass, he created a web of lies to his self inside like his father taught him to.   
Tears slipped past his defenses and plipped onto the paper beneath his head. He thought of the one person he knew who didn't judge him, who didn't think of him as a murderer and a fraud. The one person who loved him enough to come down into the workshop and carry his sleeping body to their bed, to bring him food when he refused to come up at Steve's insistent whining. The person who he went to when the nightmares got too bad. Who loved him enough to not push his buttons.   
Bruce. He loved Bruce.   
Just at that moment, he heard the shop door open and footsteps from the foyer. Tony stood quietly and turned to the intruder, having a vague idea who it was.   
Bruce stood awkwardly at the door, hands fidgeting. But when Tony turned to see him, he smiled and walked toward Tony to embrace him. Tony leaned his head on Bruce's shoulder and quietly sobbed.


End file.
